


Closer to the bitter end

by orphan_account



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Humor, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2018-08-08 03:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7741375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange plague breaks out in a small village not far away from Markarth, forcing Liv, an aspiring healer, to wander off from her home to search for the cure and find out who or what has brought on the malady. Little does she know about the conspiracy that is yet to unfold.<br/>Set 50 years after the events of TESV. Lots of OCs, Dragonborn and Lydia cameo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rays of the morning sun pierced through thin and scanty clouds while young and laborious girl was making her way out of the lawn, where she had been filling up to the brim her wicker basket with fresh herbs for the store she kept. With her shoes sinking to the grass pearled with dew, she was taking bold steps towards the quiet village that lay to the northeast of Markarth. On coming back, she found it bristling with bouncy and vigorous folks springing back and forth: metallic clang was ringing from the forge while an elderly weaver was humming her songs as she was mending a shabby dress; a shepherd with all his might strived to drive the goats that were blatting sluggishly.

“Morning, Liv!” the shepherd greeted her, “Thank you again for that ointment! Knees pains haven’t troubled me since then I got it from you.”

“Always glad to help!” she replied blandly and carried on going.

Fetching a sigh, she stopped short by the well so as to draw her breath. On a sudden, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned backwards and a chunky bearded man came into her view glancing glumly with his lusterless eyes set under bushy brows.

“What can I do for you?” she inquired.

“Morning, serah. Will you please tell me where I can find Lars. I’m a friend of his father’s and have news for him.”

“His house is across the road but I haven’t seen that rogue in two weeks.” She folded her weary hands. “Doubt that there’s a chance of him being bumped into.”

“That’s a pity,” the stranger grunted, “Anyway, thank you.”

With a bow, he wandered off. But before he came out of her view, a crumpled piece of parchment had dropped out of his pocket and now was lying at her feet. Having picked it, she was on the point of calling him out but failed to get a sight of him. Then, she unfolded it with care and tried to make sense of the smudged scribbles that were written on the piece. Barely could she read them except for the one line that dealt with the thief who had to be clapped by the heels. She put it in the pocket of her old beige dress and went on going.

Without the slightest doubt, there was something peculiar about that man who made her skin crawled. Neither did the look of his glassy eyes nor his somber face gnaw her. There was hardly any single shred of humanity in the shell that had spoken to her. It seemed to belong to the beast eager to sink its teeth deep into prey rather than to a human.

Having chased away the evil thought, she turned round the corner and stepped in the inn where Ylva, her stepsister, was a keeper.

There were few guests in the inn that usually gave a comfortable shelter and warm food to any wanderer who happened to cross its threshold and thus not laughter or a bard’s song broke the silence. The only living soul that resided there was the keeper who was sweeping idly the dusty plank floor. With Liv have shown up, she perked up and set the broom aside. Smoothing her curly chestnut hair that came loose out of her yellow cap, she drew closer to her.

“My little busy bee’s come back,” she wiped out the sweat from Liv’s forehead with her small puffy palm, “Why would you jump out of the bed in such an early hour? You’re overstraining, honey.”

“Would you rather me had been sleeping off benders till the noon?”

“Same old Liv,” she giggled, “A mug of mead?”

“Oh, I’d like one. It’s getting hot outside.”

“Say no more!” she purred getting downstairs to the cellar.

It didn’t take long for Ylva to fetch the drinks that they had been longing for. Having set the tray on the table, she perched herself on the sturdy stool and put her hands under the chin.

“So, is it nice outside today? Haven’t stirred abroad yet but I probably should,” she bent her brows, “We’ve run out of flour. Ah, it never lasts long.”

“I wish it were a bit cooler,” she took a sip of her mead, “I’m dripping with sweat but it’s way better than snow sticking to your face.”

“Indeed,” Ylva emptied her mug at one gulp.

“By the way, I’ve just stumbled across a pretty weird fellow,” she said, dropping her voice.

“Which one?” her sister smirked mischievously.

“Shaggy and chunky. Also, that gaze of his… he looked at me as though I was a stew, ugh.”

“Hmm, it rings a bell somewhere. Yes! He had dropped by shortly before you showed up. Asked about a room for rent,” she rubbed her chin, “And I wouldn’t say he’s weird. He seemed rather outworn: might have had a long journey.”

“And he asked me whether I knew where Lars lived,” she took her mug aside, “Introduced himself as his father’s friend.”

“Father? But Lars is a foundling!” her eyes suddenly widened, “Never heard of his parents. A milkmaid volunteered to take him under wing. Poor Brita,” she sighed, “He was such a headache for her.”

“Ylva,” she glanced at her apprehensively with her thoughtful hazel eyes, “Don’t you have a vague hunch? That something is up to happen?”

“Nothing to be worried about, my little bee. That scoundrel might have got into a mess but it’s all up to him to clean it up. And even if it’s immense, none of us will get involved.”

“Let’s hope so. Well,” she rose up, “Should be working. Bye!”

“Bye-bye! Don’t forget to take a short nap unless you want to get a migraine,” she let out a chuckle.

Having served visitors and closed the shop by the evening, Liv fired up the hearth and set a pot of stew, solicitously left by Ylva, to warm. Her mouth watered, as the course started sizzling and the appetizing savor of homemade cooking filled the cramped yet neat room. While not being much of a hearty eater, she’d never been averse to have a fine feed after a long and intense day.

After finishing her meal and putting away the dishes, she changed hastily into a nightgown and plopped down on a bed eagerly to fall into deep profound sleep but failed to do one when a keen pain stabbed her elbow. “Indeed, I’m overworking.” Stepping tidily, she approached the shelf where the healing potions and elixirs were kept and gave it a thorough look.  “This one will do the thing,” - she picked the bottle she needed, took off the lead and swallowed sour and greenish liquid that made her mouth dry. Then, she got in bed and finally fell asleep as the pain wore out.

_Back again outside, she was heading home with a new basket of herbs, collected on the outskirts of Markarth. The musty stench of rotting leaves and damp earth was floating in the air while cold breeze was playing with her green cloak. Her boots were squelching through the mud, nearly weltering. Unlike the morning before, the village was as quiet as a grove before a thunderstorm. Abandoned and secluded it looked. Sometimes Liv felt as though she was the only living being roaming around the place. Even the cattle along with foul seemed to have vanished. “Where has everybody gone?”_

_The lane which she was walking down was not going to end and neither did she catch any glimpse of her house. She must have been there already but the path was long and curving, leading to the corners of the village she had never seen. As though she ended up somewhere else but the place she had been born and lived her entire live._

_Having made a turn, she went to the well, put her basket on the dry ground and took her seat on the dusty bench. Hardly did she recover her breath when she was approached by an old woman of short stature muffled up with holed and greasy shawls and scarves._

_“Serah,” she reached out her twiggy, prominent with veins hand to Liv, “Would you be so kind to draw some water for me? If only my hands weren’t that feeble.”_

_“S-sure,” she murmured apprehensively and lowered the bucket down into the well. Then, she pulled it out only to find that there wasn’t any water but bubbling jaundiced slime giving off odors so dreadful that she dropped the bucket, splashing its abhorrent contents on the ground. Overtaken by aghast, she strived to wipe her hands but dozens of tiny bugs and worms started swarming on her sleeves. Hardly could she let out a scream or a gasp when they rushed to her face._

She awoke from a horrid dream as cattle began to rumble disobediently while driven by a shepherd. Having made her bed, she had a quick wash, combed carefully her thick fair hair falling to her waist and drew them back into a neat ponytail. And as she stepped out of her hut to take a gulp of fresh morning air, she caught a sight of the village chief, moving uneasily towards her. As fast as he could, an elderly man was limping in spite of any kind Liv’s recommendations to walk at a leisurely pace.

“Morning, Liv,” the man said, gasping for breath, “You have to see something… urgently.”

“What’s the matter?” she helped him to settle down on a chair that stood nearby: she didn’t want the old fellow to fall down out of exhaustion.

“The smith’s family,” he husked, “and he himself have come down with a quaint malady, which I’ve never heard of.”

“Let’s see what I can do,” she said compassionately.

***

Upon their entering into the smith’s house, her eyes began to tear out of the putrid stench she could smell there. The smith was lying on a cot; drops of cold sweet were running across his lined forehead, the whites of his eyes had turned yellow and bloodshot sores had spread across his face and hands. In delirium, he was mumbling incoherently. The rest of his family seemed much better but were far from good. In utter disbelief, she froze on the spot at once and wouldn’t stir for a moment. Over the years that she had been nursing people back to health, it was the first time she encountered something like that.

“Please, don’t any draw closer,” the smith’s wife implored, suppressing a cough, “We don’t want anyone to catch it.”

“Liv, please, tell me that you’ve got something: a spell, an elixir, whatever,” whispered the village chief.

“I… It’s not the case I’m so familiar with,” she started mumbling, “It doesn’t look like a poisoning or whatever. When did it break out?”

“Firstly, Einar felt quite faint,” the smith’s wife replied, “Then, he started vomiting blood and as it stopped we all go to bed. But no sooner did morning come, he got worse and we… so did we.”

 “I suppose… I should get back to see whether I have something for this case. It won’t take long.”

“Of course, Liv,” said the village chief.

Sprinting like a hare pursued by a pack of wolves, she rushed across the road and burst dartingly into the house. Thereafter, Liv flung open the cabinet doors and began to look fussily over the notes, she was making ever since she had become a healer, and volumes that were either passed on to her by the forerunner or exchanged from caravaners. Each page was given a glance twice but she failed to seek out anything relevant, no matter how. With all the papers scattered across the room, she just dropped to her knees limply and covered her face with both hands, feeling clueless and feckless.

“Liv, Einar has just passed away,” she didn’t notice the village chief stroll into the hut, “We had his body taken out. Now, they’re not letting anyone in… His family, I mean.”

“By the Eighth…” she wept.


	2. Chapter 2

When the hearth-fire was crackling lightly, the water in a tin bowl came to a boil and Ylva put a sweet-scented bunch of mint in the brew. She stirred it gently and put aside the spoon. The sugary odor poured into the room while she filled two small clay cups with the hot and steaming drink. She set one on the table at the Liv’s side and sat down with a flop on a creaking chair.

“Stop gnawing yourself, Liv,” she strove to take her out of the somber reverie that she seemed to have fallen in, “You did everything you could.”

“I did nothing,” she retorted bitterly, “I just walked out to fetch something that could help and he... gave up a ghost!”

“You are spreading yourself too thin, Little bee,” she soothed her sister, “Sometimes we face things beyond our capabilities. And you just have to deal with that.”

Having placed the emptied cups in a buffet, Ylva took off her rumpled dickey and reached for a broom that had been settled in the corner. She pulled up her sleeves and cast a playful glance at Liv.

“About time I tidied up the guest room. Hope that creepy fellow didn’t make a big mess up there. Want to join me?” she proposed.

“Sure.” Liv said flabbily and walked upstairs, accompanied by Ylva.

The two young women strolled into the room and, with a great pleasure, found it to be as clean and neat as it had been before the guest arrival: the bed was made nattily, the upside of a table as spotless as it ever could have been, and the floor seemed so untouched as though someone had made a decent cleaning-up.

“If only other guests would be so cleanly,” Ylva admitted, “It took me two buckets of water to get rid of all the dirt last time.” Then, her shrewd eyes settled on the spot near a bed leg and she went down on her knees so as to give it a proper look. “What’s this?” She took from the floor a wrinkled brown satchel. “Let’s see what’s inside.”

“Ylva!” hissed Liv.

“What? What if there is a dozen of septims in there? You know that I can’t stand seeing money just lying around without a proper use.” Her sister fought back, making Liv roll her eyes indignantly. She opened the bug and dug her hand further in it. “An apple, a silver ring - nothing pretty… Wait, there’s something else. ” She pulled out a tiny bloodstained bone with scratch marks. “Oh, mudcrabs!”Turning pale, she let it fall with a faint knock on the floor.

“Shor’s blood! It’s a human bone!” Liv muttered, spooked.

“So, did we shelter a vampire?”

“He didn’t look like one,” responded Liv, “Could he have been a cannibal?”

“A cannibal? Doubtfully.” Her sister suggested. “Never heard rumors of them.”

“Doesn’t it seem weird? A cannibal shows up and then a plague breaks out. What if they’re like skeevers that spread maladies?”

“You’d been listening too much to Lydia’s tales once you were a child, Liv”

“Right! I shall talk to Lydia. She used to travel across Skyrim a lot and might know something.”  Liv said.

“Never found her stories plausible,” Ylva was about to argue, “Are you sure she’s the right person to be asked?”

“It wouldn’t be out of place,” she assumed, “Well, I should be going.” She was on the point of leaving when all of a sudden she memorized the note she stumbled across the morning before. “Oh, how could I forget that?”

“Forgot what?” Ylva raised an eyebrow.

“Just take a look at this,” she handed her the note, “Dropped out from his pocket, that creepy fellow, I mean.”

Gravely, Ylva stared at the piece of parchment. “Now it’s getting really ugly,” she exhaled, in dismay.

***

The day had stepped aside and let the cool but uneasy evening to take over. No-one dared to stir forth out of fear of the nascent plague and thus the village seemed dormant and lifeless. Masser and Secunda were shining dimly like two forgotten lanterns left deep in the woods. Sometimes the smith’s dog on the leash would howl mournfully in the afterdark stillness.

Piercing through the dark like a cat that chased the prey, Liv was making her way towards the hut that Lydia lived in. Once a hardened and tough venturer, she was a broody and stolid old woman who would breathe a word only to tell the stories of her youth that most of the children from the village found breath-taking. Few remembered how she ended up here. Some believed that her mind was out of order, though the others held she was a lonely woman that sought attention.

As she approached the house, Liv got the sight of Lydia sitting on the chair that she had taken out on the porch. Motionlessly, she was peering into the distance as though reflecting on the things only she was fortunate to have seen. “Evening, Ly…”

“Have a seat,” Lydia interrupted, “Have you come for new tales? Aren’t you too old for them?”

“Actually, I’ve been wondering whether you heard about,” she paused,” cannibals?”

“Yes,” she frowned, “A bunch of them lived in the Reachcliff cave which is on the southeast of the city. What’s that to you?”

“I believe,” Liv explained, “They have something to deal with the plague. I know it may sound strange…

“Enough,” the old woman hissed, “A headache has been troubling me over the last few days and I’m not in the mood for an idle talk.”

“Well, I won’t be bothering you any longer.” Then she took her departure and got back to Ylva.

***

“So, what did Lydia tell?” Ylva yawned.

“There’re cannibals just around the corner,” she lopped down on the bed, “And they’re after Lars. I wonder why?”

“Are you sure we should stick our noses into that stuff?” she folded her arms.

“Then how am I supposed to cure those out of health without knowing what exactly is happening to them? If it has to deal with cannibals chasing that sneaky rat, I must see into it.” She rapped out every single word.

Heaving a sigh, Ylva rubbed her forehead and walked across the room. “Then, if we are for a quaint venture, I suggest we break into Lars house and have a look around,” she implied.

“Isn’t it illicit?” Liv hesitated.

“It isn’t unless we get caught. Come along,” she said grabbing a candle from a shelf.

Fortunately, hardly anyone had gotten outside so far and both sisters didn’t draw any attention as they approached the thief’s house that had been abandoned for weeks. “Hmm, I may handle this one,” Ylva whispered while casting a glance at the lock. She pulled out a pass-key and proceeded to break open the door.

“I didn’t know you could pick locks,” Liv admitted.

“Hubby used to keep wine for himself,” the lock was creaking and cracking as she was niggling with it, “But I’m much cleverer than he was.”

At last, the door opened wide and they sneaked into the house unheeded. Ylva lit the candle and looked over the messy room: clothes scattered across, empty bottles lying around, the hearth that needed cleaning and the bed had been turned topsy-turvy. The shelves and the table were covered with a week-old coat of dust and tiny spiders were scampering along the greasy carpet.

“Shame on the thief whose house can be broken into so easily,” rumbled Ylva.

“I’ll search the floor and you have a look at the shelves, will you?” Liv suggested.

“Whoo!” Ylva whistled, “Just look at these smutty books he’s got here!”

“Tell me that you’re not going to take them.”

“You’re such a killjoy, Bee.”

Liv examined thoroughly every inch of the floor, hardly missing any spot or an angle but in vain. Little did she found among crawling bugs and clothes that had been slovenly dropped down. Shaking off dust from her sleeves, she knelt up slowly and turned her gaze at Ylva who was thumbing through one the books that she found amusing.

“Here you are,” she exhaled huffily.

“You should consider reading it, Liv,” she chuckled, “It’s much funnier than picking flowers. Oh, there’s a letter between the pages. ”

“Read it aloud.” Liv said.

“A new business offer has popped up. I’ll fill you in once you’re in Riften. Han-Kur.” She finished reading, “Might be his sidekick.”

“Riften,” she emphasized, “Now I know where to start.”

“Wait, are you going there? But it’s a long way off!” Ylva got anxious.

“Don’t worry,” Liv assured her sister, “A little bird told me there’s a caravan heading that way. I’ll catch up with them and get safely.”

“But… well, if there’s only one way, let it be.” Her sister got upset. “May Kyne guide you.”

“Thank you,” Liv reached to hug her, “I’ll set off early.”

Afterwards, she got back to her hut and bundled the staff she would need on her journey. Sliding under the bed, she unlocked the small wooden chest where she had been saving up money as a rainy day fund. Having put a few dozens of septims into her satchel, she stuffed two loaves of bread and a cheese wheel into her knapsack along with a bunch of potions and ointments and attached a long carving-knife to her belt. All necessities having been packed, she got on bed and slipped into a dreamless reverie.

***

As soon as the morning broke, Liv took along her knapsack and ventured out of her house to pick the path out of the village. Everyone seemed to be up and now was talking over a matter that she hadn’t got the vaguest idea about. Surprisingly, there were a half a dozen guards scouting around the place. “Might have arrived pretty early,” thought Liv. She was almost outwards the village when one of them halted her abruptly.

“Stand by,” he grumbled, “By the jarl’s order, you cannot leave the village.” Bewildered, she turned round the corner and bumped into the shepherd who was grasping a note in his huge fist.

“Liv, I was just looking for you. There,” he handed her the note, “This is from Lydia.”

“Lydia?” she asked, startled.

“Yes,” he rubbed his neck awkwardly, “Well, should be going now.”

As he departed she looked briefly at the message she just received.

_“Liv,_

_Go to the old forsaken house by the willow. I’ll be waiting at the rear door._

_Lydia._

Hiding the note and making sure the guards didn’t espy anything suspicious, she turned her steps to Lydia.

The old woman was standing just there where she had promised to be. Gazing trustfully upon her, she whispered: “I knew you would try to flee the village for the answers. For fifty years this place has been my home and I don’t want it to be ravaged by the plague. Come on,” she invited her in the house, “There’s an ancient nord passageway just below this house. You can reach it through the cellar but I won’t let you in there unguarded. Take this pendant that will scare off any dead you may disturb by your presence. Good luck, Liv. I know you’ll pull through,” “Thank you, Lydia. I won’t let anyone down.”

Having bid farewell to Lydia, she went down to the dusty cellar piled with broken barrels and proceeded to the large hole in a brick wall. As she went further and stepped into the obscure catacombs that preceded anyone who dwelled above heavy rubbles fell down from the frail ceiling with a bang blocking the entrance behind Liv. There was no going back. Then, she lit a lantern and went on going. She would cast a curious glance at the inscrutable old murals and silently wondered what the meaning was beneath all of them.

The air was stuffy and hard to swallow with a smothering stench of must that floated around. Tangled greenish cobwebs were hanging from the ceiling like old muddy curtains. Hardly any sound would break the stillness that resided in the passageway but Liv’s footsteps. The further she made her way deep the dimmer and older it seemed. With her knees aching, she spread a cloak on the floor and sat down. Having placed the lantern in a dusty alcove, she made out a tiny flicker just at her feet that turned out to be a gold coin. The finding was given a closely look and then stuffed in the pocket of Liv’s dress. “You may cost a fortune in a land far away but from now on you’re my little treasure.”

As the pain abated, she carried on going. It took her a few more hours of wandering along the selfsame and dark hallways to make it to the exit. The lantern was almost blown out and she was coughing out of the dust she inhaled. While approaching the heavy wooden door, she heard footsteps pounding behind her back. Slowly, she turned around and a towering limping figure clad in dark-ebony armor rose into her view. Its eyes glowed with ice; the fleshless skull seemed to have been flung round with broken grey skin. Then, it growled again ominously revealing rotting rake teeth and raised an axe at her. With her blood chilled, she just froze on the spot and speechlessly awaited her inexorable fate to be fulfilled. On a sudden, tongues of flame burst out of Liv’s fingertips and swirled around the undead. It dropped to its knees and was about to roar but turned into a pile of burnt bones. “Was that the pendant… or I?” a thought crossed her mind. Breathing a sigh of relief, she came closer to the door and pushed it with all her might. Cracking, it submitted and opened wide before her. Both eager and exhausted, she stepped out of the dungeon and ended up on a serene margin. Dropping her stuff, she lied down on the silky grass and was laying motionlessly for the next half an hour taking the fresh air.

Abruptly, the grass crackled stopping her from drifting away. Coming round from the rest, she rose from the ground and a man in scruffy and holed clothes appeared before her.

“Oh, would you look at that?” he grinned spitefully. “A farm-girl away from her barn. So, you’d better have some coins in your pockets,” he threatened her with a club.

Out of fear, she reached for the knife on her belt. But no sooner did she grasp it the bandit hit the ground struck down with an arrow in his spine. Withdrawing her gaze from the dead man, she caught a sight of a hooded mounted figure coming her way. It turned out to be a woman of strong built and high stature as she got closer and dismounted from the horse. She had the leather armor on with a few shiny metal plates on both of her shoulders and chest. A long steel sword was attached to her navy blue girdle and a hunting bow and quiver full of sharp arrows were behind her back. With a hood taken off, the long ashen face with copper glossy hair rose into Liv’s view.

“I’m Vaynelle but friends call me Vay.” Liv was given a glance of shrewd red-colored eyes. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine but a bit frightened,” she responded, “So pleased to see someone who’s not willing to kill or rob me.”

“The city outskirts aren’t quite safe. One has to be cautious once away from home,” she gave Liv a friendly smile, “You’re not a mercenary or a lone venturer as far as I can tell, are you?”

“Yes, I’m a healer and herbalist from a village not far away,” she explained, “I’m planning to catch up with a caravan and head for Riften.”

“I’m afraid you missed them: they have departed recently. Are there going to be a fair in Riften?”

“No, I’ve got a pretty rough business there,” she said.

“I may accompany you on your trip to that rat nest,” Vay suggested.

“Would it bore you to travel with a complete stranger?”

“A stranger?” she laughed genuinely, “We’ve got a plenty of time to get know better one another. Come on, there is a long road to hit.”


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: It's been a while since I posted anything here. I wish I had gotten back to this story earlier but my degree project had been such a time eater. So, here it is. Hope you enjoy and feel free to review and comment. I would appreciate anything that you can tell about my story._

“Quite a story you've got, Liv,” Vay remarked as she put another twig to a crackling bonfire that they were sitting by.

“I know, It may seem far-fetched to you...” The tone of Liv's voice gave away her gnawing despair, «But from all that I've gathered...”

“Far-fetched? No,” Vay reassured her, “During my sailings, I've heard stories wilder and more bizarre than yours. I used to serve on a merchant ship and whenever we docked in a new port and stepped ashore to idle around for a bit there were always new stories and tales to know from the locals.

“You're always on the move, aren't you?” Liv gave her an appreciative smile.

“Indeed. Even after our employer had gone broke, sold out his ship, and the crew scattered to the winds, I didn't feel like settling anywhere and kept wondering – walked through the deep woods that even most hardened hunters would avoid and ventured into places long abandoned that even the most greedy raiders wouldn't trespass in their search for relics to be sold out. And I still stumble across new pathways here in Skyrim. There's no word to describe my fondness of the province. Some call it an unwelcoming wintry land. Wish I could reason them otherwise,” she quietened down for a brief moment and turned her wistful gaze. “Forgive me and my big mouth,” Vay spoken again, “I was talking too much about myself. About time to give you the moment to open up a bit more.”

“My own life is full of things much more mundane than yours... Well, it used to be till now,” Liv shawled herself as it got colder.

“I bet you have more to tell. It can't be that you didn't have any little adventures before.”

“Well,” Liv sighed, “When I was somewhat fourteen I showed a little knack for magic and just in time a priest from a temple passed by. He taught me how to conjure some healing spells and told me a great deal about herbs. Our previous healer who was an elderly and weary woman breathed a sigh of relief as her successor had shown up. Thus, I began to learn and practice my craft.”

«A splendid beginning, Liv. This is a story what I expected to hear. Now, you should get some sleep while I keep an eye an out so that no beast or bandit will bother us. Have a goodnight.”

“Thank you,” Liv yawned, «And please, no need to stay out long for long.”

“Oh, put your worries aside, I know what I'm doing,” Vay reassured her.

As they finished their talk, Liv slipped into a tent and got under warm and thick shawls and blankets.

_The vast gloomy canvas of the sky showed no sign of stars. Deprived of any brightness and with Masser and Secunda vanished, it looked like an empty husk. The oily dark-green waters were beating at the desolate lonely shore that Liv was wandering along as the wind played with rough and ashen sands. “Why does it always have to be so lonely and murky?” she wondered silently. With no warning, the ground under her feet drifted apart and she began to drown in these dense and frigid waters. She could not stir a limb as they turned numb and heavy while the depths were pulling her downwards. Then, a shade emanated out of nowhere and reached out for her. Its touch felt so soft and caring, almost motherly. Slowly, it lifted her upwards and drew out on the shore. “You will find me soon,” the ghost whispered and was gone._

***

No sooner did the dawn come, Vay and Liv woke up and headed down to the stream that paved its way through rocky grounds nearby. With all the joy, she dug her hands into the crystal clear waters and a finally had a wash that she'd been yearning so greatly not only because of eyes that were hard to keep open. All that she wanted was to rinse off another quaint dream that seemed far too vivid.

«It's still a long way up to Riften,” Vay pointed out as she drew her mug out of water, “And my reserves of clean clothes and snacks aren't going replenish themselves. I would love to stop over somewhere. Just know a pretty place not so far away. Would you mind staying there for a night?”

“Truth be told, there are no words to describe how desperately I'm craving for a bed or a hot bath.”

“Ha-ha, we haven't got any closer to Riften yet but you're already going to give up,” Vay giggled.

“Oh, I beg your pardon but meek village folks are not that sturdy as you hardened travelers are.”

“It's a matter of time. Even a few days of living away from your cabin will change you quickly. I bet your sister won't even recognize you after that.”

“We'll see,” Liv gazed upon the morning sky that that had just turned murky, promising nothing but a chilly rain. That moment, after Vay mentioned Ylva who was the dearest and closest person in her life, anguish overtook her once again – indeed, she felt really homesick. The warmth of the inn, the savory smell of stew, the odor of mead, light-hearted bard songs, neighborly villagers, and her sister to whom she could entrust her every secret and who always watched out for her – these were the reasons she never traveled much like her mother did (as her father had told her once). “Let's push on. Till it gets rainy.”

***

“I guess it's this “pretty place” that you spoke off,” remarked Liv unenthusiastically as they approached an inn by the mountain range.

“Something's bothering you?” Vay turned to her.

“A lonely inn amidst the wilderness...”

“My my, you still have a world yet to figure out,” Vay chuckled, “I admire this place. It's like a safe harbor for travelers.”

“Travelers like you?”

“Yes,” Vay put on a smile, “Like us.”

When Vay finished tying the horse to a tree, they walked into the inn. Were it no for the two scruffy and fatigue hunters occupying a table in the far corner of the room, it would seemed as lonely from the inside as it did from the outside. There was hardly anything about this place that could resemble the tavern that Ylva kept: no friendly banter, no trills of laughter, and even the owner didn't bother to greet the guests.

Liv took the cleanest and least scratched table while Vay went to see about the meals and refreshments. As she waited, she couldn't help but to listen to the chat that the hunters were having.

“I saw her last night,” uttered the one with broad and thick beard, in hushed tones.

“Whom?” snapped his companion, a woman with red and rich hair who was resting her elbow on the table and rubbing her forehead so as to quieten the headache that troubled her.

“The Shadelady...” Liv could felt both dreamy and frightened notes in his voice, «I was walking with my hounds by the woodside when they, all of a sudden, scurried to my feet and began to whimper and that witch... I stood petrified as she came out of the woods. Her skin was pale as the snow on the mountain tops and her eyes glowed like that of a dragon. She held her lips tight but I could hear her whispering to me, recounting of the lands abundant with prey and of countless paths to tread. She promised me to show the way there, and I stepped forward... but something spooked her and she turned to a winged shadow and flew away.”

“About time you stopped drinking the brew they serve here. It ain't good to your mind, old man,” hissed the woman.

“Oh, Magrit,” sighed the man flabbily.

The moment the two hunters stopped talking, a frowning woman with a greasy apron stepped to the table, holding a tray with two bowls and mugs. As she walked away and disappeared behind the door that led to the kitchen, Vay got back to Liv after a long exchange with the owner. Finishing their meal, Vay put aside the dishes and spread out the map on the table.

“We should get a horse for you,” Vay was drumming on the table with fingers, “Can you ride?”

«Yes, my father is a groom in the stables in Markarth.”

“That's just fine,” she grinned, “Then, he wouldn't mind if we lend a horse for... Oh, wait. We can't do that because he doesn't have a clue that you are “on the run”. She rubbed her neck and looked through the map thoroughly. “Ah, our only option now is to head for Whiterun. It's the closest city with stables and I'm not sure If I have enough gold to buy horse. Well, let's talk them into giving us a discount... Maybe, it will work.”

They both were on the point of leaving the inn when a red-haired huntress approached them.

“You looking for a horse, aren't ya?” she smirked.

“Actually, yes.” Vay responded.

“Follow me, then.”

As they stepped out the tavern, she led them to a small yard where two horses, one glossy black and another gray and sturdy with uncombed mane, were hitched to a fence. With them coming closer, the black one nighed and stamped vigorously.

“Here,” she strode to the gray one and patted her on the neck, “She's strong, obedient. Whatever you would want from a good horse.”

“How much for her?” Vay reached out for her purse.

“Just take her. It's my old man's horse. After the stunt he pulled last night... Ah, it took the whole night to find where he rode away. I've been telling him not to mount after having a drink... Just take her so that I can keep my old man from any trouble.”

“Thank you. That's really so kind and generous of you,” Liv joined their exchange.

«Any time,” she nodded, “Well, I won't be keeping you off any longer, you two seem rather busy. Have a safe journey, whenever you're going.”

“At last, things have started getting better,” Liv exhaled.

Having dealt with one tiny problem, they ventured forth and headed off to Riften.

***

Another one passed away this morning. He was a man of great stamina and hardiness but still the malady brought him down. Slowly, his life had been dwindling and corroding until he turned into a feeble husk barely able to walk or breathe a single word. Rumors were about his wife who cannot bear seeing him rotting from the inside and made up her mind to fasten what had been awaiting him - helped him to go away quickly, so to speak. Without hesitation, they burned down his remains and the smoke of the burial fire soared upwards and was taken away by the cool and swift winds.

That morning, Ylva chose not to go outside and remained in Liv's hut. She would lie down on her bed to get a wink of sleep only to be plagued by anguish: did she catch up with that caravan? Were there guards to fight off any dangers should they arose from the woodwork? Would she reach Riften eventually? And though she hated herself for letting Liv go and not keeping her out of this madness looming on the horizon and unfolding slowly, she knew that there was no way around. Someone had to settle it once and for all but Ylva still had hard time grasping that it had to be Liv. Even if they had different mothers, even if Ylva was thirteen years older, they had such a firm and long-standing bond that persisted since the days when she first saw her little sister. With Liv's mother vanished, she had to look after her. It was also the reason why she never had children of her own.

Once again, she looked over the room and Liv's belongings, cherishing all the fragrant memories that they arose, and lied down on the bed and spent the rest of the day staring at the hearth-fire that appeared to be the only thing that harbored a single shred of life.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Having arrived pretty early, Liv and Vay found the streets of Riften almost lonely and uncrowded. Were it no for a bunch of traders and peddlers, who had left their dwellings to prepare their stalls and goods, the city would seem uninhabited. Much to Liv's surprise, it didn't look like the place that Lydia spoke so much – as if all the ordeals, dubious plots and crafty thieves had been purged violently out of the city (except for the one she knew and was looking for, actually) and all that remained was just another place with people minding their earthly and mundane affairs. Perhaps, Lydia was largely exaggerating after all.

The frowzy smell of moisture and fish that plagued the air and the sky overcast with thick clouds did nothing but let Liv's spirits down. Sometimes she would cast about how far thehome was and how much she wished to be with people she knew. And still, it was only her call to find the way to relieve them of the malady because someone else might have gotten it wrong.

«I wonder if it's really Riften,” Liv said while they crossed the wood bridge that linked two edges of the city, “I supposed it was... quite different from what is here.”

“It used to be,” Vay replied, “But with The Thieves Guild weakened, much of the commerce slumped and so did the Black-Briars' grasp over the city.”

“Who's that?”

“The prominent and affluent family that used to be in charge here,”Vay remarked, “But it's all not important to us right now – I don't feel like giving a history lesson. What was the name of that “sidekick” you mentioned earlier?”

«Han-Kur.”

“Getting to him won't be that easy,” Vay's voice lowered, “If only you had just a bit more leads.”

'What are we going to do, then?” asked Liv?

“Let me see,” Vay rubbed her chin, “What other options do we have right now? Asking the locals whether they've seen anything suspicious? It would be foolish and sloppy... Or we could get an inn keeper talking. They might have eavesdropped something... And, given some extra-coins, may reveal some juicy details.”

“Seems sensible but I won't join you - I'd like to look around the market. There are some things we need to purchase here,” Liv explained.

“Sure. Once you're done – wait for me near one of the stalls.”

Having parted their ways for a while, Liv took a short stroll across the market, looking for things and necessities that they might need later. As she purchased and packed everything that she could afford, Liv turned her steps towards the inn, where Vay was supposed to be, and nearly bumped into a woman who appeared abruptly in her way. Puzzled and dazed, she mumbled a few words of excuse and kept on going. But before that, she felt the woman's hand slip into her pocket.

Suspecting that she was just robbed, Liv inspected the pocket and found a folded piece of parchment. She sat on a bench and gave a closer look.

“ _If you seek for Han-Kur, meet me in the evening.”_

Below that line was a hastily drawn map of the city with one house ringed.

“There you are,” Vay finally showed up, “Folks in the inn wasn't so willing to... What's that?” she gestured at the note that the stranger had put stealthily into Liv's pocket.

“Looks like we've got a lead.”

***

As the evening fell, the city became as lonely and deserted as it was during the morning. Lit only with the torches carried by the guards that were walking over the place, the foggy streets seemed unwelcoming and grim. People in the city didn't hesitate to lock down in their dwellings and wait for the new day to come.

Watching out for the dark corners, Liv tried to stay close to Vay. Her imagination was rather prolific on who might lurk there. Back in the village, people would tell a great deal about what could happen in big cities after the sunset.

“It wasn't so clever of us to discuss our business here outdoors,” said Liv in hushed tones, “That can well be a trap.”

“If so, we will be able to defend ourselves. Challenging a bunch of bandits wouldn't be so hard – I once fought a giant... alone.”

At the end of street, by the city walls, stood the house that they were looking for. Chasing any fears that they might raise any suspicions, they proceeded to the door and knocked softly. As it slowly half-opened before them, they walked into.

Judging by the interiors, the house must have been unoccupied for some time. Pallets, mugs, and emptied bottles, that were lying here and there, seemed to be the only signs that people actually resided there.

The woman that Liv came across previously was standing there in the room, flanked by two armed and alerted men.

“Don't worry. This is no more than a precaution – we might be in danger as well,” the woman explained as if foreseeing their questions, “Glad you've come by.”

“Now tell us what's this all about,” Vay seemed wary and alerted just like the guards were.

“Someone wishes to speak with you.”

“Is there someone else in the house?” Liv looked over the room.

The moment Liv spoke, the woman reached to her pocket and pulled out a palm-sized gem, like those that enchanters from cities would sell. As she placed it on the table, the smooth and amber-like light poured into the room.

“I thought you'd never come,” a distant ghostly voice rang out, “And yet here you are. You chose to come to our call even though it might have been a trap.”

“What kind of magic is this?” wondered Liv.

“Some prefer letters yet I enjoy these knick-knacks, wrought by magic – they make everything much easier,” the voice responded, «But let's discuss the matter you're all came here for – I know that you are looking for the gang ran by Han-Kur. But from all that my agents have gathered recently – they are all dead except for two surviving members: Sophie and Lars. The last one were looking for some reliс of high value but was captured by the mercenaries, hired to find it as well. I can tell how to reach the abandoned fort where he's being held captive. In return, you will persuade him into working with you on finding the relic. When you have ascertained its location, signal my agents by saying the keyword to this gem and they will do the rest. The keyword is Dairih. But be warned – there are others looking for it.”

Liv and Vay exchanged their glances quickly and nodded in agreement. Few can offer the assistance like this and no matter the consequences that might arise, they chose to accept the deal.

“You must think it is a desperate measure but rest assured it is worth the risks. My agents will provide you with the location of the fort.”

***

On the next day, they set out for the fortress that the unknown entity spoke of. Having spent on their short trip only a few hours, they ended up by the time-skewed walls that started falling to ruin. A bunch of archers were walking along the basements, watching for any intruders trespassing on their hold. They all dropped dead from the basements before they could call for reinforcements as Vay shot them all swiftly with her bow so as not to attract much attention. With no-one observing the area around the castle and the inner court, they sneaked quickly into the fissure in the wall.

“After the Oblivion Crisis, so many holds were either ruined or forsaken leaving them for all kinds of criminal scums to settle,” Vay hissed, “Such a waste.”

As they entered the court, Vay looked over the place until her gaze settled on one of the buildings.

“There,” she pointed to the door, “It must be the prison.”

The insides of the prison looked no better than the whole fortress from the outside – holes in ceiling and walls eager to crack made it much more miserable and gloomy.

They were walking stealthily along the hallway as the bandits seemed to be asleep on their switch – their snuffling could be easily heard from their rooms. Passing through their quarters, they took the staircase down to another hallway lit with the torches.

At the end of the hallway, they found a half-opened door that revealed a round chamber with low ceiling where muffled voices were coming from. As they sneakily crossed the threshold, they caught a side of a bulky man standing before another one, chained to the wall and with his head tilted.

“No matter what I do, you only shriek and screech,” the interrogator complained bitterly as if not amused, “Sophie would find it entertaining but she didn't asked for that. Will you ever tell me where that dreaded Skeleton key is? I should've cut you fingers off but she told me not to be so harsh. Ah, even a psycho don't know how to get people talking.”

The man that he was talking to let out no single word. His greasy hair fell to his face and stuck to the mouth. Gasping for air, he was trembling feverishly as crimson drops of blood were running down his chest, covered with burn wounds and bruises.

“Talk!” The interrogator hit him with his massive fist and with all his might but the man still revealed nothing.

“I'm getting tired of this, Lars.”

“How about challenging someone with free hands?” Vay taunted him, raising her sword at the orcimer.

“These dumb-heads let two women in?” he barked, rushing at Vay. Sending her sidewards, he then surged forward to Liv like an angered bull.

Appalled and frightened, she turned numb and did nothing but extended her hand out of reflex.

The moment Vay rose from the floor and raced to save her companion, a dazzling bolt of lightning turned loose out of her hand and struck the interrogator. In a wink, he gave up a ghost and collapsed on a rack standing nearby.

“Not to a shabby for a someone with “a little knack for magic,” Vay remarked, glancing sideways at a steaming corpse.

“We'd better take him out before the bandits have realized what happened down there... and it'd better be quick as possible.”

“A hatch in the hallway... a secret passageway... never got the chance to use it,” barely uttered Lars.

“Liv, unshackle him and I'll go see that hatch.”

***

Having escaped the fortress unheeded, they sheltered in the cave by the river. Sitting by a bonfire, Liv was watching somberly her unfortunate patient whose wounds she handled with the best treatments at her disposal and who was lying senselessness, sedated with herbs. Even though she had so little sympathy for Lars, she spared no effort at healing him – she might despise profusely people living off robbery and theft but they needed him to put things right.

“I've made some false trails in case they rush to look for us,” whispered Vay who just returned to their shelter, “How's he doing?”

“Nothing fatal but still he'll need some more time to rest,” Liv responded faintly, “Can we stay here a bit longer?”

“I believe we can. This cave is perfectly hidden by the wood and bushes. And... there's something I'd like to talk about,” Vay gave her a puzzled look, “Back in the fort... you just nailed that huge orc hands down. Only battlemages can do so. And yet you're a healer.”

“Ah,” Liv hesitated, “It might the pendant given to me as a protective amulet. Frankly, it wasn't the first time I pulled off such a thing.”

“Or it just the fear that spurred the magic you harbor. A few times I witnessed this kind of situation. I think you just need someone who would help you... to harness it or show how to master it. Can prove its benefits,” Vay smiled, looking admiringly at Liv.

“But I'm not a battlemage... nor do I want to be that way,” Liv scoffed at the thought of mastering things that can harm people instead of helping them.

“All right, this is your call. Well, it's about time we got a wink of sleep. Goodnight, Liv.

***

In the morning, that came after, Vay walked out of the cave to fill the waterskins, while Liv stayed, looking after her patient. She was cutting the bread and cheese for the breakfast, he shuffled and then sat up in his bed, holding his side.

“Not that I'm complaining,” he was rubbing his wrists, marked with bruises from the shackles, “but you're the last one that I expected to rescue me. I expected no-one, frankly speaking And... I just want to know why. Again. I'm not complaining... that was just strange of you. Used to thought that your sister will never let you go further than the lawn near the village.”

“It's all turned out to be twisted and complicated, thanks to you,” she responded bitterly and looked straight into his tired green eyes, “Now you tell me, what's the deal with the cultists?”

“Shortly before some bitch turned on us and butchered each of us except for me, we started smuggling everything that has to do with daedra worship for some loony collector. So, I ransacked their sanctum or whatever they call it. That might have gotten them pissed,” his lips with patches of dried blood turned into a grin.

“Pissed?” Liv hissed at him, infuriated, “They sent the plague upon the village! The one that I can't cure! You speak as though you don't give a single damn about dying people!”

“Yes, I know it's bad,” he sighed, a bit irritably, “But I don't consider it as my home anymore nor do I miss the people living there. They would gladly have me beheaded.”

“They have reasons for that,” she retorted.

“And let me guess – you want me to retrieve the knick-knacks that I stole and take them back to these cannibals and they would undo the curse? You're naive, Lina. It's only in Lydia's tales that people pull through the hardships and villains get their bitter end.”

“It's Liv,” she spoke through clenched teeth.

“Listen to me,” Vay suddenly chimed in, “We will help you to find that relic. In return, you will help to clear out the mess you, a sloppy criminal, have created. Is there a part that you don't understand? Also, you should know that I can get a place for you in Cidhna Mine in case you misbehave...”

“Who's that warrior princess?”

“The name's Vaynelle. Glad to finally see you awake, Lassy.”

“Vaynelle?” he raised an eyebrow, “I heard of you. You have quite a reputation among mercenaries.”

“I left the business,” she folded her arms,” So, do you accept our offer?”

“Seems fair enough to me.”

“Glad to see we've reached a common ground,” Vay smirked, “But before we discuss our plan I'd like to know more about the relic you're looking for.”

“Oh, well,” he stretched out, "Some months ago, our boss came to know the legend of the key that is capable to pick any lock. He was dead certain that it's more than a legend. Been spending a plenty of time researching until he found out that one hermit scholar, Arcturus, might know where it was. But even before we started looking for him, some crazed bitch went back on us... She wanted all to herself: the money, the contacts, and the key itself. After we kicked her out of the gang, she hired her own goons and went on to hunt us down, eager to get a grip of everything that we've achieved. However, she didn't managed to get out of me where to look for the key.”

“Is that Sophie? Back in the fort, the bandit spoke of her briefly,” Liv added.

“Yes, that's her,” he said dryly.

“What's the plan, then?” Vay wondered.

“That hermit settled in the camp in some ruins, here in Rift. As much as I know, he rarely sets his foot outside. It's going to be simple enough: we just go there and get him talking.”

***

Within a few days, after Lars recovered quickly, they headed for the camp, where the hermit was supposed to be. As they ventured down into the ravine, they came across a place that might have been excavated some time ago as shoves and pickaxes were scattered in disorder across the site. A cramped passage, revealing an entrance to a some kind of entombment, could be seen in a gaping fissure.

Steadily and cautiously, they passed through the passage and strolled into a chamber, where an elderly man in greasy robes was sketching the interiors neatly. His beard was tangled and fingers were dirty with coal. The arrival of strangers didn't disturb him as he was preoccupied with the place he was studying.

“Are you Arcturus?” Liv asked him calmly and blandly so as not to confuse much.

“Yes,” he uttered faintly, “Arcturus is the name... Arcturus, stop mumbling... Arcturus, wake up... Arcturus, get lost...”

“Easy enough?” Vay gave Lars a skeptical look.

Have you heard of The Skeleton Key?” Liv went on, “We suspect you may know something about it.”

“Yes,” the hermit husked, “The gift of Nocturnal... The lost blessing of The Thieves guild... Never returned to the Twilight Sepulcher...”

“We wonder whether you know where to find it,” Vay joined in.

“Yes... In the city of Windhelm, the last owner of the key...” he paused for a moment and then stared, enchanted, to another corner as though contemplating something only he could see.

«Oh, you have come,” he spoke again, “Did you bring me the forgotten lo...”

The hermit never finished the sentence as he fell dead abruptly with blood coming out of his blood.

“What did just happen?” Lars looked both puzzled and alerted.

“Dead...” Liv added as she quickly examined the hermit's body.

“Let's get to Windhelm. We'll figure it out there.” Vay added.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Looks like our warrior princess has led us astray,” Lars teased Vaynelle as they were wondering helplessly across the grove that didn't seem to let them out.

“Clam up, you ferret,” she hissed at him, “It was your idea to take a shortcut through that blasted grove. But I don't know even how we managed to get lost here... All along I've been following the map.”

“I hope it's not that kind of enchanted groves where you get lost and then killed by spriggans... should you trespass on their domain,” Liv said, in a slightly trembling voice.

“For pity's sake, Liv! Parents use these foolish wacky fables to keep kids close by so that they can stay out of trouble,” Lars snapped, annoyed by Liv's naivety.

“So bad they didn't worked with you, sloppy thief,” she retorted.

“I'm not judging you.”

“Why would you ever judge me?” Liv gave him a dubious look.

“You're preachy...”

“Looks like someone is having a rough passage,” an unfamiliar voice broke off suddenly their exchange.

Caught unaware, they all turned around and got a sight of a figure in a scarlet cloak. As a stranger drew closer their features revealed as those of a tall and statuesque woman with milk-white skin, touched with small lines by her eyes and lips, and charcoal hair, adorned with a circlet. Each step she was taking towards them didn't make any sound as though her shinned boots were weightless. Even though her shrewd gaze seemed unearthly and uncanny, there was something benign and humane about her, Liv could feel that.

“Put aside your blade, Thief. I wish you all no harm,” she spoke again as abruptly as she appeared, “Like most of men, you fear a woman who happens to know more than you.”

“You're neither mer nor human,” Vaynelle lowered her voice.

“You see through a brick all, Clever One,” she gave her a discreet smile, “But enough with the idle talk – I can show you the way out but are you ready to pay me back for such a favor?”

“Running errands for a witch?” Lars whispered, “Do we really need that?”

“What exactly do you need, then? Find a way out or wait until the fierce spirits, residing here, get the better of you?” the sorceress jeered as her demeanor shifted drastically from benign to menacing and sinister.

“What do you want us to do?” Vay asked the woman, taking Lars aside.

“Just a parcel that needs to be delivered any time soon,” she spoke again in the stilled manner, while handing in a book, wrapped in a thin piece of parchment, “Take it to the shack by Lake Yorgrim. You will not miss it for there are no dwellings in this area.”

“We accept your offer,” Liv chimed in, taking a bow before the witch. She could hear Lars grunting as everyone ignored him.

“I am glad to see you have heeded to the voice of reason. Besides, it has been a very long time since anyone payed me any respects. I shall not keep you any longer for you have to proceed now,” she waved a hand gracefully and a path began to emerge before them, “Take this path and it will lead you out of the grove. May you succeed in your cause and do not forget about your end of the bargain...”

***

As the sorceress had promised, the path that she created did help them to find the way out of the grove. Within the next hours, they reached the wintry lands, covered with softwood forests and clothed in flaky snow that crackled under their boots. After the stuffiness of dungeons or nasty smell of moisture, it was a great relieve to breathe a clean air, free of any repulsive odors. The place itself around them was completely new to Liv as she had never been furtherer than Markarth in her entire life.

Soon, they found a lonely shuddering cabin, build out of poorly treated wood and rounded by picket fence. Putrid animals heads, set on pikes, and bones that were lying around completed the eerie look.

“Come on, Lassy,” Vay handed him the book, “You would make a fine delivery boy.”

“Oh no, I'd rather not go there,” he protested.

“Oh, don't be a chicken,” she patted him softly on the shoulder, “Just knock and pretend that you're a good boy. If there's danger, we're close by.”

As he approached, the door opened and someone walked out. There was barely any human about the creature that revealed itself: back-bent legs, feathers, and long twiggy taloned fingers. Even though it was wearing greasy rugs barely holding together, the frost didn't disturb it. Coming closer, it reached out for the tome that Lars, suddenly turned numb, was holding.

“The forbidden lore,” it husked, struggling with words, as if each sound burnt its throat,”As she promised... Give it to me... Now!”

Hastily, it wrested the book from Lars's clasp, bringing him to his senses again, and went on to open it.

“It is... it is empty,” cried out the creature indignantly, “The pages are empty! You! You took it away!”

With a piercing shriek, it spread its arms so as to cast a spell but never managed as Vay darted forward and beheaded it at one blow with her sword.

“I told you,” Vay smirked as she tried to cheer Lars up.

“Looks like she wanted this creature dead,” Liv joined in while taking a closer look at the corpse, “Is that a hagraven? I heard tales about them sacrificing animals and people to acquire more power.”

“Yeah, abhorrent things,” Vay said as she cleaned her sword, “So, we're done with one errand. 'bout time to set a camp somewhere – I'm dead creased.”

“The only good idea from you all,” Lars grunted.

***

After leaving the eerie shack where the hagraven used to live and now was lying beheaded by its door, they put up tents on the opposite lake shore. The day was growing old and they set up a bonfire.

“Playing nice with that witch looked pretty lame,” Lars said while cleaning his boots, “We could have found the way out on our own but you chose to chat and run some errands for her. What else are you going to pull out next time? I almost regret joining you.”

“But she did help us.” Liv tried to reason him, “Besides, she seemed pleased with the way we behaved towards her.”

“Aren't you an ungrateful jerk? Had we not stepped in, you would still be in that prison, tortured and humiliated,” Vay snapped back fiercely, “Or there could have been someone else coming for you?”

“No-one,” Vay's response cut him to the quick and he found nothing to do but to tilt his head, avoiding her stern gaze.

“I guess now you understand.”

Wounded and ashamed, he slipped into his tent never to show up for the rest of evening.

As a few hours passed, Liv made sure that Lars was sleeping off benders and turned to Vay, sitting by the bonfire and keeping a watch out.

“Vay, we really need to discuss something, “she said below her breath, “It's that relic that we're after. We can't let him get a hold of it... You know... We promised that strange people to make sure that they have it. It looks like our plan has gotten much more complicated.”

“Yes, I thought about that,” she sighed, “I guess we will go along that way: once we know where that thing is exactly, we let these people know and they take it for themselves. After, we and Lars get to the place where it was supposed to be and pretend to be surprised that it's not there.”

“I do hope it all turns out to be like this.”

“So do I,” she laid her hand on the hilt of her sword that had been thrust into the ground, “It's been a rough day. Go get some shut-eye, Liv. Have a good night.”

Leaving Vay alone, Liv stepped wearily to her tent and got inside. On her bad was lying a huge bundle that she didn't remember taking along with other belongings. Cautiously, she took off a wrapping and a tome, covered with dark leather, came into her view. On its front was a peculiar ornament – something resembling tentacles and claws intertwined together. Having no idea how it ended here, Liv was about to put it away but something deep inside her induced her not to do that and she rested it in the corner. And still, she had an odd compulsion to give it a look. With no will to resist, she reached to it and opened the first page. The next moment, she could feel as if something pulled her in an unknown direction and everything around began to twist in quaint manner and turn blurry until fading away completely.

As she recovered her senses, Liv found herself in a hallway with arched ceiling and lit by orange and yellow orbs, growing out from the thick stems, set along the way or protruding from the walls with hundreds of books fused into them. After walking along that eerie passage, she stepped out into the balcony, overlooking the vast ocean with dark oily waters and many spires, looming on the horizon. Before her appeared the bridge, seemingly made out of thin lace fabric, that was leading to a top of a tower. She had nothing to do but to move forward.

There, at the summit of the site, Liv came across an altar with an another tome lying upon it. “It can bring me back or kill me as well,” she thought, “But what other options do I have now?” As she approached the heavy tome, she opened it and glanced at the writings on the rustling timeworn pages.

The signs and letters were swarming chaotically like ants and were utterly unfamiliar to Liv. But the more she looked at them, the more organized they got and quite soon, much to her astonishment, the writings started to make sense. What was revealed to her was deeply entwined with arcane secrets, helping to master one's powers. Much more marvelous, she realized how quick her mind was absorbing the knowledge; even the pages were turning at a bewildering pace. Soon, the tome closed and faded away, never to appear again.

Gravely disappointed, Liv looked around, seeking for something that could be of any help to her but in vain – there was nothing else on the top of the tower, even the bridge was gone. The next few hours she spent sitting idly and gazing upon the jaundiced sky, feeling lost and helpless. The knowledge that had been revealed to her dealt only with using the power of elements and was of no use right now.

Then, Liv caught a sight of a blurry shadow, floating towards her. Alerted, she stood up. Her only wish was to hide from whatever was approaching her but, again, she was out of options.

As the shadow draw closer, it took a shape of a creature that had features of both human and a mollusc, bearing hands, tentacles and a monstrous head with tine eyes as dark as the waters below. Out of sheer fear, Liv called upon all the courage and will she could ever possess to unleash the forces that know she can master. After a round of lightning-bolts, the creature collapsed and turned into a pile of yellow ashes. In disbelief, she froze, hardly able to realize that she defeated a monster, deadlier that any being she had ever seen.

“I am pleased to see that you have made a use of my gift,” the familiar suave voice rang out behind her back.

Taken aback again, she turned round to see the sorceress she had met before in the cursed grove.

“You?” she cried on the top of her lungs, “Why have you put me here? Did you want me dead like that hagraven?”

“I wish you no harm, young one,” she smiled motherly and kindly, “It was only for the sake of the gift I wanted to bestow upon. Someone could only dream of such a thing.”

“Then... I don't understand... why would give me that gift?” Liv wondered.

“I have a soft spot for meek and humble people like, young one. The arcane secrets that Apocrypha revealed to you have already been most useful and they will do again. More than once,” the sorceress explained deliberately.

“Apocrypha? By the Gods what is it exactly? Is it... Oblivion?” Liv's voice trembled.

“Yes, indeed. This is the realm in Oblivion where all the knowledge is hoarded, waiting to be claimed. But very few can do it without losing their minds.” The Shadelady lowered her voice in a menacing manner.

“And who are you?”

The witch did not respond at once. She withdrew her gaze as if reflecting on something or as if she was not even sure herself what to say.

“I have seen The World Eater at his rage. Seen his ebony wings darken the skies and traveled far to slaughter him. I have been to the places the other would never trespass, walked the halls of the dead and unearthed the very few secrets they left,” she spoke in resolute voice.

“So you... are The Dragonborn? You are the one people sing songs about? I am honored and... surprised...” Liv was both amazed and bewildered.

“Judging by the surprised look, you expected me to be a thick-headed warmonger with a big ax or sword, hmm?” she chuckled.

“No... no,” Liv mumbled, “There have been so many things that are not so...mundane. And that's really unbelievable - I am standing before the woman that saved us all.”

“It was merely a delay of something intended to happen, whether you like it or not. Some day, the world will succumb to a violent storm and then rise anew... I would have nothing to do but to watch it. But worry not – it will come long after you all pass away.”

“I have another question for you,” her voice trembled again, “Is there any other reason I see you here? Apart from me being meek and humble? I do suspect there is...”

“It is because you are bound to set the dragon free. Now, the time has come for you to return... Nahl-Dal-Vus!” the sorceress' final words thundered in the air, summoning up an unknown force and Liv was overtaken by the same sensation when she first opened the book: she was brought back. Thankfully, no-one was aware of her short disappearance and it still was deep in the night.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Much unlike Riften, Windhelm welcomed the three with streets flooded with people whose hustle made the city look vibrant and bright despite the frosty and murky weather residing there.

They were walking along the narrow streets, confined with timeworn walls built of gray stone, and with pavements coated with flaky snow. As the day was reaching its end, the sun was settling slowly as though weary and fading.

“Here we are,” Liv remarked bitterly, “At the loose end with no clues...”

“Don't loose your heart and stay sharp. Where there's a will there is a way,” Vay tried to reassure her.

“I do hope...” Liv never finished her reply as a magpie swooped down her head, snatched off her shawl, and carried it away swiftly until disappeared in the archway.

“Mudcrabs!” Liv swore fiercely as she darted forward and headed the way the bird flew. Running down the alley, she made it to an old house, tucked away in the dark corner. Carefully, she knocked on the door and it opened before her. Yet no-one was behind it. She peered insight a poorly lit room and caught a sight of an elderly woman with a good-humored face and with a blanket on her laps, curled up in a chair at the opposite wall. By her side was a perch where the dreaded bird, that annoyed Liv so much, accommodated itself.

“Do come in, young one,” the elderly woman called to her kindly.

“There you are,” Lars and Vay appeared in the doorway, “Did you find your stuff?”

“Please, forgive my lovely pet. From time to time, he can be rather discourteous,” the woman went on, “ I merely asked him to lead you here. Not to rob you. Here, your shawl is on the table.”

“Lead us here?” Liv wondered, while picking up the shawl.

“Yes,” the woman spoke calmly, “The moment I saw you, I realized that it is only you who can help me now. Everyone else would only turn back...”

“Another deluded ol...” Lars began but was cut short by Vay, jabbing her elbow into his ribs.

“What are you hinting at by... saying that you saw us?” Vay chimed in, “And how you did it?”

“Once, when I was younger than you, I was wandering across some ruins, lost in the wilderness and overgrown with lushness... After spending hours roaming there, the curiosity took over me and I set out to see what was beneath vines and bushes. As I cleared everything out, an altar came to my view and I heard a voice... The voice that thanked me for attending to that place most sacred and granting me with the gift to see very far. That gift has been of great help for me ever since,” the old woman recounted dreamily,”And I saw you... coming a long long way... Passing through a dungeon where the walls are stained with blood, a dark grove where the spirits reign and here you are... in the city where years ago the rebellion ignited.”

“Azura...” Vay added.

“Wait!” Lars spoke again, “What if we scratch your back and you'll scratch ours? Guess what I'm talking about?”

“I do,” the woman responded flabbily, “There is a shrine in the mountains to the north. When I was much younger, I used to visit it often... 'd like you to travel there and lay down this box on the altar. But there's no need to rush right-away - it's getting late and you can stay here till' the morning.”

“Aunt Amelia!” a young woman of small stature and with a restless look on her round face appeared at the door, “Who are these people?”

“Vienne, they are our guests tonight. We should give them shelter before they set out,” the woman turned to her, “This is my niece.”

“If only I had known about them coming!” Vienne complained, “I could have cooked a generous dinner for them. Wait... Lars? Is that really you? Where have you been so long?”

“Vienne...” he looked slightly embarrassed, “I...”

“You know each other?” Liv asked.

“We... She is an... acquaintance of mine,” he blushed, “Why aren't you in Riften?”

“Oh, it's so much to tell...” she sighed, “And... if you excuse me, I could use some help with the dinner.”

“I'll be glad to help.” Liv volunteered.

***

“So, how do you know Lars?” Liv asked Vienne subtly while chopping the bread.

“Oh, how shall I put it? I used to be one of these followers of Dibella if you know what I mean... So, he was rather fond of my tricks... Oh, Gods,” she tilted her head shamefacedly, “Now and then, he would visit me until the time when he didn't have a minute to call his own with his work in The East Empire Trading Company. In the early days, what I was doing used to bring me so much joy and excitement but soon doubts started plaguing me... One moment it occurred to me that I could be doing something different, could be someone else... And then, there was a very unfortunate incident. To cut a long story short, I barely made it out safe and sound. After that, I felt so miserable and... hideous until a strange woman appeared out of blue in my life, persuading that I could take a fresh start. She led me here where I reconciled with my aunt... Now, I have a different life, making a difference while helping her. If there had been no one to guide me, I would have ended up dead.”

“What had happened to you must be really horrid,” Liv patted her on the shoulder, “I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you, Liv. You're a very compassionate woman,” a tiny teardrop ran down her chick,” Well, let's not dwell on the past. So, how did you catch up with him?”

“We...” Liv quickly figured out that Lars had been lying to her about how he was making a living, “We're some traders... I mean we're couriers.”

“Business companions, I see,” she wiped out the tears from her face, “I've been dreaming to see him again since then. Sometimes he can be a bit... estranged but his heart is in the right place and I do believe you can count on him.”

“I do hope so... It's time to serve dinner – folks must be starving now.”

***

At the earliest hour, they set out for the shrine that Amelia had spoken of. After long and wearing wandering, they spotted a tall statue, looming behind the veil of the falling show, and reached the sacred place within a matter of a few hours. The strong winds howled persistently as they were striding up tattered stone stairs.

“Did you hear that?” Vay looked backwards.

“W-what?” Liv asked.

“Nothing...”

When they made it to the top, Liv placed the box on the altar as the old lady asked. Then, all of sudden, it cracked open by itself and a pale blue spark soured to the statue like a bird without a cage.

“My lady... I am so sorry. It has been years since the last time I traveled here to pay respects,” the old woman's voice echoed.

“I am not blaming you, Amelia. Years have taken their toll on you but still you have been keeping your faith against all the odds,” a distant voice responded ghostly, “You are guilty of nothing. But I do suspect there is other reason you asked these people to carry your soul here.”

“Yes, My lady... There were people who forced me to abuse the gift you had given kindly to me... If only I could a find a word to describe how it has been troubling me and how heavy is the burden...” Amelia's voice faltered.

“You should not be gnawing yourself over that. Very soon these people will pay their tribute...”

“I still cannot bear having done that... But I wish to make up for it... Could you, please, relieve me of the gift?”

“I see no reason for doing that. But if it can put your mind at rest, I shall do it.”

“Thank you...” the spark faded away like a snowflake.

“As for you,” Azura spoke again, “You should seek for the answers back in the city... in the house where the murder was committed. But beware – you are not alone in this pursuit.”

«What in Oblivion, I've just heard...” Lars added, bewildered.

***

Upon returning to the city, they stopped at an inn to have some rest after spending time in the mountains, searching for the shrine. Liv and Lars took the table, while Vay went on to scent out any rumors of the murder in the house where Azura kindly directed them to.

“Liv,” Lars turned her gaze at Liv.

“Need something?” she asked, while thinking whether they should purchase any more supplies for the journey ahead.

“I wanted to apologize...” he gave her a sad look on his regular face.

“For what?” Liv snapped incredulously.

“For calling you naive and preachy... you're a good la.. I mean, you're so tender-hearted. No-one ever has been given so much kindness no matter what I did,” his voice sounded calmly and Liv could felt a genuinely apologetic note in it.

“Finally,” she rumbled, “Seems you have qualms of remorse now. Very impressive, indeed. Makes me think you can become a decent human being one day.”

Lars did not say anything. Only frowned, trying not to give away that her cold response wounded him even more.

“By the way, what can you tell me about Sophie?” Liv asked hin to break an uneasy silence.

“I'll be brief: she is crazed bitch who thought she could take over. We kicked her out and she retaliated. A dangerous one... One moment, she's calm and focused, another - she's aggressive and murderous.”

“I was in luck,” Vay chimed in as she strode to the table, “I've found some chatty folks who shed a great deal of light on what has happened here recently. Now listen: there is a manor where one of the servants butchered the owner. Looks like we're on the right track.”

“And what happened to the murderer?” Lars wondered, “Is he in jail?”

“Yes, he's being held there. Maybe we can pay him a visit and have a heart-to-heart. From what I've gathered, the owner was married to dunmer woman. Much unusual for the city, known for its distrust of mers, I must say... So, I can pass off as her cousin or whatever so as not to arouse much suspicion.”

“I think it's not a good idea for me to be just steps from the guards...” Lars hinted, unenthusiastically.

“Agreed. Liv and you can stay here while I'll do the job,” Vay nodded, “See you all later, then.”

***

Leaving Lars and Vay alone, Vay walked out of the inn and turned her steps towards the prison where the presumed murderer was supposed to be kept.

She didn't like the whole premise, looming like a storm or a wave about to swallow everything in its way and never before in her life had she ever been so apprehensive. With each passing day, more people were emerging in their way and more tangled, more complicated everything was getting. On the bright side, she had a companion to travel with, to have a talk to, and to live through the hardships and challenges that the fate had to toss at them.

But truth be told, Vay was craving for a new venture for she dreaded steadiness and stability that others were striving for.

As she approached the gates of the palace, a grim guard spoke to her: “State your business.”

“I am here to speak to one of the prisoners. A relative of my own died by his hand.”

“You may proceed. Go downstairs and past the barracks. But bear in mind: you will be watched.”

“Understood,” she replied matter-of-factly and strolled inside.

After passing through the barracks, where she'd been given thorough and obnoxious looks, Vay finally reached the holding cells where she hoped to find the criminal that may be the key for their cause.

“I need to talk to the prisoner charged recently with murder in the manor. My relative has been killed by him,” she addressed the only guard present in the room. He gave her a bored glance and nodded, granting permission, and pointed to the cell she was looking for.

The prisoner did not pay any regard when Vay drew closer. Lying on his crude and smutty bed, he was gazing upon the ceiling with a dead-pan expression.

“I heard you coming,” he said faintly, lying still, “Here to mock a dead man who failed everything and everyone? Or just passing by?”

“That's where you are wrong,” she lowered down her voice so that the guard couldn't get a single snatch of their conversation, “I've got a few questions for you.”

“I've been playing twenty questions for too long,” he noted bitterly, “Guards sent you to me? They believe you can get something more from me? I'll say this again: I gave them everything they should know. Now, leave me alone...”

“On the contrary,” she cut him off, “I'm here on my personal business. I suspect you happen to know about some relic. If you play nice, I may be able to have you released.”

“I'm not buying that, Greyskin.”

“I am Vaynelle of Blacklight,” she folded her arms, “Ever heard of me?”

“The mercenary who worked for a jarl a few times to hunt down some warlords?” he stood up and stepped to the bar.

“Yes, and if you happen to know, once I had to help one warlord to get out of confinement in order to move things forward during my investigation. Had I not stepped in, he would have been beheaded.”

“Yes, I know that,” his eyes went wide, “Please, can you do this for me?”

“First things first,” Vay smirked, “Tell me everything.”

“I used to be in the Thieves Guild... in the Riften but got kicked out one day. Since then I hadn't been able to make a decent living and handed myself over to one of those rich pigs. I've been doing all the nasty work, been at their beck and call, tolerating shitty attitudes. Once a little bird told me that the man I was working for obtained somehow The Skeleton Key. For him, it was nothing but a fancy article and didn't have a clue how important it was for the Guild. There it was – the key to reclaim our luck. I made up a simple plan: kill him and return the relic and my reputation. But It all went terribly wrong – I was caught in the act.”

“Where is it? Is it still in place?” Vay insisted.

“In the private chambers, in a locked chest by the bed...”

“Thank you, you've been most helpful. Now, I should be going,” Vay turned her steps to the exit.  
“Where are you going?” the prisoner got agitated.

“I had a change of heart. And before I go: no doubt they kicked you out. It's not the way the Guild gets things done. So long, my friend... Oh, one more thing. I slit the warlord's throat.”

After a talk with a murderer, Vay was seeking for a corner where she could inconspicuously set in motion the next stage of the plan they all were working along. In a matter of a few minutes, she gained a sight of an alley that seemed less occupied by people. Making sure no-one was looking, she slipped into. No living being was around and each window was covered with thick blinds. Now, it appeared to be the best moment to proceed. Carefully, she pulled out the magic gem they had been given and, beneath her breath, said the key-word – dairih. It glowed for a mere a second and faded again. Taking that the signal was sent, she returned to Liv.

 


	7. Chapter 7

At the late night, two cloaked figures were shifting stealthily from one dark corner to another after they emerged from their hideout to look for the house in the far end of the city. Upon reaching their destination, they halted by the door.

“Should be easy but you'd better cover me – use one of the tricks of yours,” said a pale young woman as she examined the lock thoroughly.

“And you'd better be very quick. I can make us both invisible only for a minute, give or take a few seconds,” whispered her companion.

While picking the lock, she strove to keep her arms steady but they would tremble like leaves on the wind – she had been on withdrawal for too long and all her senses and skills began to deteriorate with a pace she found very alarming. The longing for another gulp of skooma was beyond any limits of patience – its grasp ran deeply, distracting her, setting her mind adrift, and depriving her of focus and determination.

As the lock finally subsided, she opened the door and they hastily walked into.

“The place is big enough,” the woman murmured, running an eye over the insides, “Search the upper floor while I'll look here. Be cautious and don't turn the house into a mess – everything should remain in place after we leave.”

Having combed the floor thoroughly, she found no sign of The Key as did her partner. Overtaken by frustration and anger, she felt a strong urge to ransack the house and decimate it viciously but had enough remaining patience to keep calm.

“It must be a trick,” she clenched her hands in fists, “The Key was supposed to be here! We've never been so close and now... Ah, now I know... It was trick! To mislead us!”

“Keep your head, Sophie,” her partner held her firmly by the shoulders, “You're being paranoid again! I've been telling you to see about your addiction! You being that vulnerable will take us nowhere!”

“You're not in charge here!” she scolded him, “Get lost! I've had enough of your preaching!”

 

***

“There it is,” Liv hushed as they spotted the house that they had been told of.

“At last!” Lars smirked as he proceeded to open the door, “Strange, it isn't locked... Whatever! The Key is right there...”

“Don't get too excited,” Vay sniffed.

No sooner did they get inside, Lars rushed for the chest where he hoped to find the relic. Vay and Liv followed, quietly waiting what his response was going to be.

“That was a very long time... What in the Oblivion... The crate is empty!”

“Someone might have got here ahead of us,” Liv tried to calm him down.

“After all these months of planning, after all the deaths, after all I've made... It must have been here!” he snarled, hitting his fist again the wall, nearly grazing the skin on it.

“Don't be such a...” Vay chided him but was interrupted suddenly.

“To Oblivion with you all!” he sneered and slipped out of the house, keeping telling curses.

“Now, we're gonna catch the thief again... or else he gets in trouble again.” Liv said.

***

Lars found himself lying on the freezing-cold stone floor with his hands tied behind his back in a room lit with a few lanterns set here and there. He barely remembered anything after he ran out of the house – all of a sudden everything went dark and then he was here. His head was pounding with a headache and limbs turned numb and stiff. A tread of footsteps rang out somewhere behind the door and a woman appeared. Her face was still as if she was wearing a mask and the gaze seemed gelid and piercing.

“You're getting lousy, Lars,” she said in a deep husky voice, “Easy to track and easy to catch. I thought better of you, believed I could get you into cooperating with us. Turns out you're almost as useless as the rest of your gang was. But still there's just one matter you can help me with. I had a feeling that I've been fooled – there was plenty of stuff in that house but The Key... It wasn't there. It must be a trick you played on me. I've been walking in your steps and know almost everything that you do but it occurred to me you've been making false leads. Now, tell me where The Skeleton Key really is.”

“You're deluded and paranoid, Sophie. Either the daedra lied to us or someone else was quick enough to snatch it before us all.”

“I know you're lying,” she drew closer and stepped on his fingers with a heavy boot.

“I'm not,” he gasped, “I have no idea how to prove it to you!”

“You're forcing my hand...”

***

“He must have been running insanely fast,” Liv sighed as they were following the footprints in the show that Lars had left.

“Over here,” Vay pointed to the alley, leading to another quarter, “The footprints end here.”

“It looks like someone was dragging him.”

“No doubt he disappeared here – there're hardly any guards here.”

Finally, the trails led them to a house with a thin wood door. After they broke into, they found Lars, all black and bruises, on the floor and a shifty-looking woman standing over him. She turned round as she came aware of the uninvited presence, pulled out her daggers, and threw herself unto them. Vay knocked swiftly the weapons out of her hands and sent her flying towards the wall. She fell with a thud and Liv finished her with a lightning bolt.

“He's nearly in the same state when we first found him,” Liv said, examining his injuries.

“We should take him somewhere else before her henchmen show up.”

***

Having left the city, they carried him over to a small ramshackle hut that they spotted by river and where they chose to stay for a night or two. Liv was treating Lars' injuries when he came round.

“Even though I made an ass out of myself, you came...” he husked.

“Don't flatter yourself – It wasn't about you. We still have people to help out.”

“I'm really sorry, Liv,” he placed his trembling hand on her shoulder, “This is all wrong... And I understand that I actually never needed The Key.”

“You're disgusting. You and people like you. People work hard to make a living while you just come and snatch all they've done and earned,” she spoke through the clenched teeth while putting on a bandage.

“You're right...”

“Yeah-yeah...”

“I'll make up for everything, I promise,” he said feebly “When this is all over, I'll surrender myself into custody.”

“Of course, you will... Now have a rest.”

“How are the things here?” Vay showed up just after Lars passed out, sedated with potions.

“He's on the mend... Said he was sorry. And frankly, I'm sorry as well. If it weren't for a scheme you and I got involved in, he wouldn't have suffered so much recently.”

“We didn't have any other option. Besides, it was the only way we could get him helping us,” Vay took her hand into her own, “Don't gnaw yourself over this scoundrel that set this madness in motion. He's just a tool to make everything fall back into place... Well, it's late... About time you had a rest.”

***

_Back in the village again, she was making her way home, gazing at the people peacefully going about their business as if nothing ever happened. They would stop to greet her and go on to attend to their routine. No sign of the crippling plague; no sign of the guards, letting no-one in and out. Everything appeared as the same as it used to be._

_As she stepped to the door of her house, Ylva emerged from the corner._

“ _Where have you been for so long?” she gave her a distressed look, “I heard some troubling rumors... People saw your with Lars...”_

“ _I... have been picking up herbs as usual,” she tried to calm her sister down, “People must have taken me for someone else.”_

“ _Longer than usual,” she chuckled, “Listen, Torsten asked me to help his wife. Look after the inn, will you?”  
“Sure.”_

“ _See you in the evening!” Ylva chirped before going away._

_Inside the inn, it was cool and lonely much to Liv's delight. As she was about to take a seat, she spotted some bloodstains on the floor, leading to the cellar. Despite the apprehension that suddenly took over her, she felt a strange compulsion to go down and find out why they appeared._

_Having gone downstairs, Liv suddenly ended up in a room that looked more like an ancient underground temple. There was no living being, except for a man, lying on the floor in a pool of blood. As she came closer, she was appalled to see that it was Lars, barely alive. He began stirring and then slowly, as if it caused a great pain, he stood upright and directed his steps towards her._

“ _I am but a tool for you,” he stared at her , not blinking. A burning hatred was in his eyes, “It is so strange, isn't it? I have suffered because of your determination to do good for people... I thought I found kindness in you. The kindness I was denied. You are like the rest! You all never accepted me, never let me become a part of the community. That's why I am this way... A parasite you called me...”_

“ _If you ever wanted to be, you would have become like everyone else! It was you who chose this kind of life. You believed it would be much more easier!” Liv retorted, while stepping behind, “You have caused much more damage to everyone else, than I have done to you unintentionally!”_

“ _Don't even tell me that we have to make sacrifices like all hypocrites do. You are preachy, indeed. Self-righteous, idealistic... You're no more than a child trying to make a difference. You can't even stir a foot without your sister watching over. And if it wasn't for Vaynelle, you would have been dead by now.”_

“ _You envy me because I have people who actually carry about me! Yet you are lonely in this life! I bet you gang never gave a single damn about you! There were those who could have cared about you but you had them turned their backs on you!” she fought back._

“ _Enough of your chatter...” he pinned her against the wall, his hands holding her by the throat tightly._

“ _To Oblivion with you all...” he growled again._

_Then, came a ghastly sensation of drowning, or of being pulled down. She started choking until everything was no more. Nothing but oblivion._

***

Several days went by, before Lars recovered enough to get back to their plan. Within a week, they made it to the place where the collector, possessing the stolen relics from the cultists' shrine, resided. It was an old but slightly renewed tower, standing solitary by the mountainside.

“I doubt he would give up parts of his collection so easily,” Vay hesitated.

“We'll find a way,” Liv said, “Wait... the door doesn't seem to be locked.”

“From all I know, he's scattered and oddish. No wonder he forgot to lock the door,” Lars added, “Let's go inside and have it all finished.”

The insides of the tower appeared quite calm and neat: exquisite rugs that covered the floor; old paintings that depicted bygone rulers, scholars, and nobility; and numerous antiques on the displays.

“Is there anyone home?” Liv shouted but got no response.

Having no answer, they gave a house a thorough examination and still found no traces of any living being.

“Over there!” came Vay's voice from the basement.

“Any luck?” asked Liv as she went downstairs.

“Just take a look,” she pointed to the pile of bones, stored in the corner.

“By the Gods... At least, we don't have to bargain over the stolen stuff... Lars! Go the display and grab what we need. We're leaving.”

***

Having taken the ritual items along, they finally proceeded to the final step of the plan – to return what was stolen to the cultists. They traveled to the sanctum, hidden deep in the cave. As they walked into the dimly lit chamber, they were meet a group of people, watching them carefully – some of them Liv saw on the occasions when she was in Markarth, and some of them totally unfamiliar.

The cultists stepped aside to make a way to a group of three, wearing hoods and masks. One of them, bearing a vial, came closer to Liv and took off the hood, revealing a face of woman, covered with scars and sores. It would seem as though the skin was about to fall off. She could even see the teeth through the holes in the cultist's cheeks.

“I suspect we owe you an explanation,” the cultist spoke, “If you think, it is all about the stolen sacrificial daggers and ritual items, you are dead wrong.”

“What in Oblivion...” Lars whispered, pulling out a weapon.

“Let them speak,” Liv cut him short.

“Twenty six years ago a Stendarr vigilante, leading a mob of villagers, broke into this sacred place and decimated it violently, massacring mostly everyone.” the leader of the cultists went on, “And yet during that unfortunate day, a few of us survived... but we fled as the mob raged on. We were hiding from Namira's wrath but did not succeed as we payed our tribute for our cowardliness when her curse fell upon us, turning us into deteriorating shells... Never dying but ever rotting. We tried to kill ourselves but she would resurrect us... Out of guilt, we returned and rebuild this place anew and found new followers but it was not enough... We craved for answers and soon it was revealed to us that only through the blood of the violator can we redeem ourselves. We began searching... Years passed and we came aware that the Stendarr vigilante is long dead... killed in action but he had a son – a perfect substitute in the given circumstances. And then, there was another revelation: he must come to the shrine out of his own volition. We took that collector out of picture and issued the order on his behalf to lure him into and we failed again for he evaded us. Some of us proposed that we must be more persistent. And making matters worse, they plotted to get revenge on the villagers as well. We did not approve for they are not at fault. They were misguided and misled. After we had a dispute, they departed and proceeded the way they deemed acceptable and thus poisoned the well in the village, letting people to succumb to the plague... We are really sorry for what happened to them... We wished them no harm. But much to our delight, a word came that he is coming to us again... and we were waiting. Now, give him up to our mercy and it will end the way it fits us all. We happen to know the formula of the poison and made an antidote, using it. A cure for his life and this misfortune will end.”

“You can't do that, Liv,” Lars begged, he tried to keep his voice steady but she could feel his fear, “There must be another way around...”

“Think twice, child,” the leader of the cultists urged her, “Think of the lives, taken by the plague. Abandon one and save the many...”

“As strange as it sounds, I agree,” Vay chimed in.

“You two can't really do this!” Lars gave them a betrayed look.

“Lars...” Liv turned to him, “There has to be a sacrifice. I know that you can possibly become a decent person but I can't put the live of the one whom I know above the lives of people I know and carry about... I am sorry but it has to be that.”

“Very wise of you, child,” the leader of the cultists handed the vial over to her and glanced at Lars, “We shall feast upon your flesh to honor our Lady. Take him to the altar!”

Not looking back, Liv and Vay took their departure from the sanctum. As the door, that divided the chamber from the rest of the cave, shut behind them, Liv halted and took a step back.

“Liv, what are you doing?” Vay wondered.

Liv leaned against the door and closed her eyes, summoning up all the will and determination that she had. The energy was radiating rapidly from her soul and seeping thorough the rock, rendering the walls and ceiling behind the door fragile and weak. Then there came the rumbling of the falling debris and muffled cries that lasted for a minute. When they subsided, Liv collapsed on the floorwith her strength drained.

“Oh, Liv...”

***

After Liv regained her strength, Vay and she hastily returned to the village through the same passage that was used by her previously. As they emerged on the surface, they got to the inn and knocked on the back door.

“Please, go away. I can't help you.” Ylva responded.

“Ylva, it's me.”

Her sister flung the door open. Stunned, she looked at her and then gave a her tight hug.

“People almost doubted you'd ever get back,” she wept out of a joy, “Come in quickly. You must be cold and starving. And who's that lady with you?”

“It's Vaynelle. A new friend of mine. Without her I'd never be able to find the cure.”

“Your little sister is being modest,” Vay smiled gently, “She's been so capable and determined.”

“Thank you, mutserah Vaynelle,” she hugger her, “I'm so glad to see you all safe and sound.”

“Now we have something important to see about. I need to help the ill,” Liv sounded resolute.

“They've gathered in the old barn, barely setting outside.”

“I must hurry!”

Using the antidote, Liv attended to everyone, curing those who were infected and preventing the malady from outbreaking once and for all. By the morning, they all recovered. And as the rumors of that sudden resolution reached Markarth, those in power wished to know everything that had been going on and sent representatives to the village. After Liv recounted everything she seemed necessary, they departed, promising any help required.

“That was most unusual, to say the least. Even Lydia doesn't have a story like that one,” Ylva said while pouring the drinks, “I can't even describe how much I am glad this disaster ended and you are back.”

“People has been offering me to stay here. And... I never though I would ever say that... I've had a good share of ventures for my entire life. So, I'm settling down here.”

“You're most welcome here, Vay,” Liv smiled at her, “Friendship is hard to come by.”

“Indeed, I'm also glad to have helped you all and to have you as friends.”

“For the friendship!” Ylva raised a mug.

“For the friendship!” they echoed altogether.

 


End file.
